Angles
by SelphishKay
Summary: When Aubrey is summoned to Booth's office, he isn't immediately sure what angle Booth might be playing at.
"Agent Lindsay," Booth called out without looking up from the manila file folder in his hands. He shuffled through the papers inside of it and plucked a sheet from the middle, glaring at the image on the document as a young, olive-skinned agent entered his office from the mass of junior agents milling outside of the door, with hazel eyes wide and eager.

"Sir?"

"Has Aubrey been around?" Booth flipped the file shut and tossed the folder on his desk, ignoring it in its path to the very edge of the wooden surface. His chair creaked as he leaned back and kicked his shoes up into his line of sight. He avoided the excited gaze of the young man and instead chose to analyze the patterned, orange portion of his sock peeking from around the hem of his slacks.

"I think I saw Agent Aubrey headed into the break room-"

"Go get him," Booth interrupted, suddenly swinging his legs back off of the desk and turning away from the fervent, jumpy Agent Oliver Lindsay. He heard Lindsay all but run from the room and less than two minutes later, the sound of different footsteps entering his office.

"Booth! It's lunch time! I get that you feed off of justice but the rest of us need to-"

"Shut the door," Agent Booth interrupted once more. "Lock it and close the blinds."

There was a beat of silence in which Seeley Booth was only half assured that Aubrey was not going to protest before he heard the office door creak shut and the deadbolt slam home in its metal base. The moment the window blinds signaled their closure with a flicking snap, he spun in his chair and his chocolate eyes sought the coffee-colored eyes of Agent James Aubrey.

"Again?" Aubrey murmured, taking a step closer to the other agent, hands fisted in his pockets. He tracked Booth's movements as the older man stood and walked around the desk, loosening his tie as he went.

"Yes," Booth nearly whispered, the last consonant stretching out in a soft hiss. Aubrey eyed Booth with a smirk and began to shrug out of his suit jacket.

"I told you we'd make a good couple." The was an undercurrent of laughter in the statement and the reminder of Aubrey's joking declaration from a previous case sent a flash of irritation across Booth's face.

"Shut _up_ , Aubrey," the older agent growled and seized his face, drawing it through the last foot of space between them and crashing their mouths together. Aubrey gasped quietly into Booth's mouth and Booth moaned deep in his throat in response. The younger man's arms came up to encircle the more experienced agent's neck, but Booth used the hands that had been clutching Aubrey's face to shove his embrace away and move quickly to his collar, popping buttons open two at a time as they traveled downward. When Booth's fingers found the bare flesh beneath the shirt, Booth drew his lips from Aubrey's.

"You're not wearing an undershirt?"

"It's a navy shirt!" Aubrey scoffed and Booth's mouth moved to his neck, biting down hard.

"Really? Really, man?" Aubrey's hands drifted to Booth's belt, his left ripped the leather material through the silver latch and the right grasped at the firm flesh growing beneath the fabric over Booth's fly.

"You want to judge a fashion show or get your d-"

His next words were reduced to mumbles as Booth shoved two calloused fingers into Aubrey's mouth and continued to use the other hand to pull the offending navy shirt from where they were tucked into the younger agent's slacks.

"I'm _not_ going to say it again," Agent Booth growled into the ear of James Aubrey. "Shut _up_."

Aubrey nodded vigorously and traced the sides of Booth's fingers with his tongue, smirking around the intrusion when Booth's eyes rolled closed and his hips thrusted forward involuntarily. Booth's hand slid from Aubrey's mouth and trailed down his exposed chest leaving a gleaming trail of saliva in its wake; Aubrey took advantage of his momentary distraction and gave Booth's pants a firm pull, exposing the soft fabric of his green boxers, straining and tented at the front.

At the sudden change in temperature, Booth's eyes snapped open. He took in the image of Aubrey gazing heatedly at his barely concealed, throbbing erection, half-clothed in black slacks, his thin upper body finely corded with muscles. The soft lines of his abdomen heaved with heavy, ragged breaths.

Booth took a step forward, his slacks dragging on the floor between his feet, and seized Aubrey by the hips. He turned the agent around roughly and pressed him forward until his clothed thighs were flush with the desk. Agent Booth slid his nose behind Aubrey's ear and inhaled the intoxicating smell of sweat, soap, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. He groaned softly in appreciation and reached around to unfasten the younger agent's belt.

As Booth's hands freed Aubrey of his slacks, and slid through his briefs to grasp his erection, Aubrey rolled his head back onto Booth's shoulder and hissed his held breath between the gap in his front teeth. Booth's lips latched onto his neck and sucked hard, and the younger man's hiss swelled into a visceral moan.

"Being quiet," Booth panted into Aubrey's ear as he pressed his own turgid manhood into the cleft between Aubrey's buttocks, "doesn't just apply to talking."

Booth made quick work of Aubrey's briefs and as the younger agent's hardened manhood hit the cool air of the office, Aubrey sighed heavily. One of Booth's hands disappeared from where they were digging into his hips. The was a soft slide of fabric over skin and then the velvet-wrapped steel of Booth's erection was pressed back into the crevice between his two finely muscled cheeks.

Shortly after that, Booth's hand, hot and now slightly wet with saliva, grasped Aubrey's swollen member once more. Agent Aubrey thrust forcefully into the grip and Booth felt the other man's jaw tightened under his own slightly stubbled cheek.

"I want-" Booth murmured against his neck. "I want…"

"I know what you want," Aubrey moaned, low and throaty, before quipping, "I don't know why it's taking you so long."

Booth's brow furrowed irritably and he brought one hand up to grasp the side of Aubrey's neck and the other seized the high, thin arch of his hip. He shoved roughly and Aubrey suddenly was forced forward over the desk. As his thin fingers gripped firmly at the edges of the surface, he felt one of Seeley's moistened fingers slide over his puckered entrance.

"Booth-" Aubrey moaned as the older agent's thick finger pressed firmly into his core. This was so different from the first – and last - time the agent had touched him, earlier in the month; he seemed darker this time. Even as Booth had thrusted past the back of Aubrey's throat, his hands in the younger agent's dark hair had been gentle and needing.

"Mmmph," Aubrey groaned into the glazed wooden surface of the desk as Booth pressed his heavy erection past the tight ring of muscles and into Aubrey's center and pulled his thoughts back to the present. His fingers scrabbled on the cold, hard surface as Booth swung his hips forward again and he hissed painfully through his teeth.

"Au- Aubrey?" Booth panted, withdrawing almost entirely before sliding into the younger man once more.

"S-Spit," Aubrey stuttered, feeling the blood collect in his face as he groaned in a boiling combination of pain and pleasure, "only goes so far."

"Left hand," moaned Booth. "Second drawer."

Aubrey registered nothing but thankfulness and a keening need as Booth halted his ministrations and allowed the other agent a moment to fumble in the desk drawer until his hand clutched at a small, cold bottle.

"You keep lube in your-" He was silenced by a quick thrust and Aubrey quickly handed the bottle over to the older man. Booth withdrew himself from Aubrey, leaving the latter aching and silently begging for reentry. He did not have long to wait.

Booth slid back into Aubrey easily, and the younger agent moaned in deep-seated pleasure. Taking this as a welcome sign, Booth pulled back and slammed forward again, both men groaned as their flesh smacked together loudly. Aubrey pressed his hips backward roughly, meeting Booth's next blow.

The more experienced agent picked up his pace, and reached around to grasp Aubrey's slightly softened erection. It pulsed back to life in Booth's grip and he pulled at it in time to the loud, wet smacks reverberating in the office. Aubrey stood, pressing his back to Booth's sweating chest.

With the change in position, there was an entire change in sensation; suddenly, with Booth's every thrust, Aubrey felt a warm wave crash over his groin, originating from some area that was clearly _not_ his erection. Aubrey's jaw fell slack, and for the second time, his head lolled back onto Booth's shoulder.

Wave after wave rolled over Aubrey until he felt a monumental hitch behind his belly button, and abruptly, the swollen, weeping manhood in Booth's grasp fired forth an impressive volley of thick fluid. Booth's hand freed Aubrey's member, but both came up from his chest to grasp the front of his shoulders for better traction.

"Aubrey-" Booth moaned into the side of his neck, "I'm going to-"

"Just," Aubrey sighed limply, "just… yes."

Booth's teeth clenched and his strokes became hurried and irregular; he growled deeply as he released deeply into Aubrey's warm, quivering core. His growl grew into a weak groan as he thrust up into the younger man in an attempt to fully empty himself.

"Ugh," Booth snarled into the back of Aubrey's neck.

" _Sweets_."

It was barely a whisper, but it was enough to distract James Aubrey as Booth withdrew and warmth oozed from him. Agent Aubrey bent and gingerly made to adjust himself comfortably in his briefs before dragging his pants up over trembling legs.

It was as if a light went on in Aubrey's head. He eyed Booth surreptitiously as the other agent redressed himself. The agent's quiet, sexual comfort in touching another man – despite a very heterosexual relationship with his wife. The lube in the desk drawer, only three quarters full. The lack of questions or identity crisis that should have risen from the steamy blowjob in the supply closet weeks before.

It seemed as if gambling was not the only vice Booth struggled with in times of trauma. And it seemed as if Agent James Aubrey was only the second man to wince as he limped from Booth's office, dripping the older agent's arousal from his core.


End file.
